Timothy Foster needed something to look forward to when he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma last summer. The 35-year-old software developer from upstate New York knew he would have plenty of time on his hands while he recovered from chemotherapy infusions, but what do you do when you’re bedridden all day?
Foster wasn’t much of a gamer. Yes, he had owned an NES and a SNES in the ’90s, but the last video game he had played seriously was NCAA American Football 14—a beloved college football simulator from 2013 that was the final entry in a series that was scrapped following a murky legal dispute between the powers that be in college sports and publisher EA Sports. (It all came down to how the NCAA defined sports amateurism(A term that has less and less meaning.) But the landscape of college football has changed dramatically in recent years, thanks to a slew of suddenly legal name, image and likeness deals that have allowed players to earn money from outside sources. All of this has ultimately paved the way for a renaissance of the only video game Foster ever truly loved. College Football 25 was released on July 19th and Foster purchased a PS5, the first console he’s owned in more than a decade, with the intention of leading his beloved Syracuse Orange to immortality.
If you have never played a NCAA The game works in much the same way that football simulators always have. In the game, you don’t just play as athletes; you also make coaching, recruiting, and financial decisions. Players take control of all the operational overhead of an American football program—the reads a quarterback makes under center, the details of the defensive scheme, and even the price of concessions available in the stadium—allowing them to fully immerse themselves in the fantasy of being a top-tier athletic director. It’s fun in an NFL context, but even more compelling in the world of college football because of the way EA’s game lets you delve into the underworld of recruiting, sponsorship, and other deceptive tactics that go into building an amateur team. Is there a five-star cornerback you’ve got your eye on? Maybe you want to send him a private message and take him to campus to maximize the chances of him accepting a scholarship offer. Foster has been working on this for weeks.
“I’m already in my third year with my Orange,” he said. “After burning that dynasty, I’m looking forward to starting another one with a Group of Five team for a complete rebuilding process and trying to promote my team to the major leagues. To me, college football games, unlike any other sports game, have the ability to make you feel like you’ve created your own alternate universe, where you’ve created an entire universe where Kent State is an absolute juggernaut.”
Foster isn’t alone. At 33, I find that most of my friends are late-bloomers. Yes, some of them continued the hobby after high school and college, diligently updating their drivers and remaining eternally eager to spend thousands on new GPUs. But they’re clearly in the minority. Most of my male friends rarely fire up their PlayStations, except to play a few dorm-room staples: Madden, Grand Theft Auto, maybe a dizzy drunk from time to time Rock band session, if they managed to cling to the plastic instruments. This is a classic symptom of aging. With responsibilities such as raising children and organizing a wedding, one has to be quite careful. intentional if they want to spend time on video games. And honestly? That’s what made the spectacular rise of College Football 25 It’s so encouraging. The game has clearly struck a chord with America’s 30-somethings. Within its first week, dozens of millennials proudly announced on social media that, like Foster, they had just bought their first console in decades, all seduced by the possibility of a most basic pleasure: recruiting a five-star gunslinger and burning down the rest of the SEC.
“I started talking to my wife about this idea earlier this year, knowing that with our baby coming, the chances of her being happy about me spending $500 on a new console and the game” were slim, said Conor Shea, a 30-something from Louisville, Ky., who hasn’t played a video game regularly since 2016. Shea and his wife came to an agreement: He could buy a PS5 if he raised the money himself and didn’t dip into any of their bank accounts. Shea got to work. He cashed in some of his gaming winnings and some penny stocks and sold some used junk in his garage, including a bicycle, a couch and a “throwback Louisville Cardinals jacket.” Before long, Shea had the funds.
“In all the planning I did to purchase and secure this game and a PS5, I made the mistake of not realizing that my in-laws had a beach vacation planned the same week the game came out,” continued Shea, who spoke to me ahead of the game’s official release. “So I’ve had FOMO all week, and I won’t be able to play until I get home on Sunday. But as soon as I do, I’m going to boot up the game, start a game with Louisville vs. Kentucky, and my first action will be to kneel in respect for the moment and all the games that have come before it, especially NCAA American Football 14. So I’m going to immediately spin an HB wheel and set Kentucky on fire.
Shea’s appetite for a new college football game has been whetted by all the great fans he never had the chance to pilot himself. As a Louisville fan, it’s especially sad that the series wasn’t revived for Lamar Jackson’s epic college career, a sentiment I’m sure is mirrored by Clemson diehards during the Trevor Lawrence renaissance or Alabama fans who were there for the dizzying heights of Saban’s last empire. (That said, as a University of Texas fan, I have absolutely no regrets about the doldrums of the 2010s.) But at its core, college football fandom has always been more focused on the past than the future, so I wasn’t surprised when Shea told me he was most excited about the chance to recreate one of the few times he was truly happy: running the triple option with the boys in a humid living room on a hot July night, six High Lifes deep across the board.
“For me, it was those last days of summer that I spent with my brother and friends playing [NCAA Football 14] “I remember those days very well,” he said. “Most of us are married and have kids now, so I’m sure the time we’ll be able to devote to the game will be radically different, but I think the excitement comes from wanting to relive those glory days together.”
Alex Cook, a 31-year-old from Michigan, takes it a step further. He joins a group chat with the same eight friends he played with NCAA American Football 14 They’ve already started playing in high school and have been working together on a plan to renew their dynasty league. Cook said they’ve all decided to take a few weeks to get comfortable with the mechanics of the new game, dusting off their controllers, before embarking on a full round-robin schedule, essentially playing the role of a Power Five conference in the coming months. “There’s nothing better than playing with the boys,” Cook said.
“Gaming provides a rare opportunity to connect with our friends and our younger selves. I have so many fond memories of playing NCAA “As a kid, I was an online dynasty that lasted a dozen seasons, staying up until 5 a.m. in the summer, building New Mexico State into a powerhouse,” he continued. “I realize the experience won’t be exactly the same, and I know there are plenty of other ways to feel that kind of community. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, though, and we all missed picking up the sticks and playing college football.”
Cook is expressing the one inescapable truth about college football. No sport in America—not the NBA, not the NFL, not the MLS or NHL fanatics—can stir our most egregious impulses like amateur football. There are fans, and there are people who lose sleep at night scrutinizing unwon national titles and the contours of conference realignment. College Football 25 has that latter demographic in its clutches. It plunges players headfirst into the disorienting quagmire of amateur sports, asking us questions that never need to be answered, like “Would you like to scroll through the nether regions of Northwestern’s depth chart?” It’s so easy to delve into NFL fandom rather than endure the rigors of college fandom, during which entire Saturdays might be devoted to serving up Appalachian State’s 70-0 shutouts. This one, my friends, is for the crazy and the sick.
“The further you get from college, the closer you want to get to the happiest time of your life,” said Matt Berry, a huge Georgia fan who, you guessed it, just bought a new console to play on. College Football 25. “You can put Tulane and Georgia Tech back in the SEC. You can rebuild the Pac-10. You can put the universe back on track, or at least put it back the way it was when you were 18. Because that’s what you always wanted it to be.”
I wish Berry and his fleet of aging millennials the best of luck. It’s never easy to recapture the former satisfaction of one’s youth, but it’s often a noble cause. Maybe life doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe the only accomplishment we need is a jet sweep home from Sanford. Stadium.
